Returns
by Wanda W
Summary: In this post X3 RYRO one-shot we'll see several returns... powers, old friends and enemies, and unspoken sentiments. Please, enjoy, read and review!


**Disclaimer:** Y'all know I don't own them, right? I just came up with the plot after being handed a bunny by a friend.

**A.N.: **Leonaria Dragonbane gave me a prompt of a meeting between Rogue and Pyro with anger and this is what was born. I hope you have fun with this one-chot while waiting for another uptdate on my other Ryro. Thank (or hate, lol) Leonaria for this one!

Rogue sighed as she glanced at the clock. Two more hours and then she could take a break. Her feet were killing her. "Marie! Get movin' sweet thing… customer's waiting!" her boss called. She rolled her eyes. The guy was balding, sweated constantly, and needed to lose somewhere in the neighborhood of forty pounds but he insisted on hitting on her as though there might be the remotest chance she'd actually take him up on it. As if!

Wordlessly she pushed through the swinging doors separating the greasy diner's kitchen from the public area and approached the unfamiliar newcomer, coffee pot in hand. Turning his mug right side up with a deft hand and pouring the steamy brew, she studied the down bent head. "Do you know what you'd like or do you need a few minutes to look it over?" she asked the young man studying the menu.

A voice rough from lack of use replied, "Just a cup of soup." His chapped hands shook slightly as he lifted the mug thankfully to his mouth. There was something about the guy that tickled at the back of her mind, but she couldn't put a finger on it.

With a shrug to dislodge that prickle of unease, she wrote it down and turned to attach the ticket to the circular posting stand for the cook to fill. "Sure thing, sugar." Because her back was already turned, she didn't see his head snap up as her accent became more pronounced. Fiery eyes raked down her body and then traveled with meticulous attention back up her form again.

"I don't believe it!" he snarled at her. "Of all the places to stumble into, I had to find the diner where the pathetic little traitor hid herself away."

The order pad fell from her suddenly numb fingers and she scrambled to pick it back up, slip it into a pocket and start to wash her hands. It couldn't be. God wasn't that cruel! Not him, not here, not now. He leaned over the counter to whisper, "What's the matter, _Rogue_? Didn't expect to see someone who knows what you really are… or were?"

Even though she was standing right there waiting for the order, Stu still felt the need to ring his stupid little bell and yell, "Order up!" Resisting the childish urge to stick her tongue out at the jerk who would only make some sick comment about it anyway, she snatched the soup and spun to plunk it down before the customer. She got in his face, smirking as he instinctively leaned back just a bit.

"Who's the traitor, _Pyro_," her tone showed him clearly what she thought of his new name. "The one who wanted to be able to touch without killing or the one who walked away from everyone who cared about him to selfishly pursue more power? The one who actually considers himself 'A god among insects'," she scoffed, scorn tainting her normally melodious voice.

"Look," he made a huge point of looking at her nametag before continuing, "_Marie_, don't hand me that poor little untouchable girl crap. You and I both know that there were ways around that and that your big problems with Bobby had nothing to do with your skin and everything to do with Kitty Pryde and Wolverine so save that sob story for someone who might buy into it!"

"You jackass! You don't know what you're talking about," she spat, hissing like an angry cat.

He began spooning the hot soup to his mouth, smirking in that oh-so-familiar way. "Right, like good old Ice Man wasn't carrying around a major icicle for the kitten and you weren't chasing after that old man like a little puppy on a leash." He shook his head and swallowed another mouthful before calmly stating, "You make me sick."

"And that makes us even," she retorted before slamming his bill on the Formica beside his cup.

He watched her deal with her smarmy boss, irritable patrons, and sarcastic co-workers. She wasn't as rude as most of them, but she wasn't anybody's doormat either. He'd always thought she was tougher than those geeks back at the Institute thought. The girl had backbone when there was nobody else around to take care of every little problem for her. John lingered until the trickle known here as the lunchtime 'rush' was over before calling out to her, "Hey! What's a guy gotta do to get a refill around here?"

"He's gotta go to He-," the furious southerner never got to finish her suggestion because her boss intervened by bellowing her name from the back. "Fahne! Heah," she barked, slamming the coffee pot down next to his arm making the dark brown liquid slosh onto the counter a bit.

John bit back his chuckle. He'd always loved getting under her skin. Actually, he couldn't believe no one had ever figured out why he got such a kick out of it. Once she'd come to live with them, it had become on of his favorite pastimes. It was the accent. He loved hearing that syrupy voice thicken and that twang come oozing from her pouty lips while her cheeks deepened to a dark pink and her eyes sparkled with life. And his moronic ex-roommate had never realized what John's real motivation was in antagonizing the girl. They'd all thought he was jealous about the time with Bobby, but they couldn't have been more wrong.

Rogue was frustrated with herself and with John. Argh! How did he do it? How was it that after all this time he could still get under her skin in no time at all? John Allerdyce had to be one of the most infuriating, aggravating, obnoxious individuals she'd ever met. The idiot drove her nuts; he always had. It bugged her to no end the way he screwed around in class when she knew he was smarter than most of them combined. She hated the way he walked around with that gigantic chip on his shoulder like he was the only one whose life had sucked. Take a number and get in line, Sparky! Everyone's got problems. Suck it up, already! And he was always trying to make her angry. Why did she keep falling for it? She grunted and tore off her apron.

"Ah'm takin' off," she announced.

"Not a chance, sweetheart. You've got another full hour on your shift still."

"Yeah? Well, since Darlene took too long and made me miss my break I figure I get to leave early to make up for it." Her hand was fisted and planted on the swell of her hip.

"I figure different, honey," Stu shot back before leering at her. The guy was starting to make John angry, too, by now.

"Ya' know what? I quit. This place is a dump anyway. I'm outta here." She tossed her order pad and her pen through the window-like opening to the kitchen at Stu's face and pulled out whatever was holding her hair up, shaking the long tresses free.

Stu's sweaty face poked out to yell at her back, "Where are you going to go? You're a loser! You'll be back," he shouted with assurance.

John threw some money down and jerked his jacket on as he pursued her outside. He found her around the side of the building, sitting against the wall with her knees drawn up and angry tears running down her face.

"He's a jerk."

"I know."

"So why are you sitting out here crying?"

"Because even a jerk can be right once in awhile. I don't have any real skills and this place isn't exactly the best for finding work, you know."

"How'd you wind up in this podunk town anyway?"

She shrugged one shoulder. "It's where the money ran out." Scrubbing her face with her bare hands she let her head fall back against the filthy wall. "I just hate feeling so lost. I have no idea what to do next."

"First, you've got to get out of that tacky outfit." He paused while a watery chuckle rose from her dejected form. Holding out a hand he pulled her to her feet. "Next, we're getting out of here. We've got things to talk about."

She gaped up at him. "What are you talking about? Why would I leave with you and where are we going?" John had to smile at the way she was fighting him and yet still agreeing to go with him at the same time. "What do _we_ have to say to one another that we haven't already said?"

He looked down at her hand lying in his, his darker fingers brushing over her still pale knuckles. "I'm talking about your next move, our next move. You're coming with me because you don't have anywhere else to go and no one else to go to. Let me worry about where we're heading. I'll take care of it." He sighed and let her hand drop, although she didn't look like she'd minded the contact at all. "As for what we have to say, that should wait until we've got some privacy. Where are you staying for now?"

She told him the name of the ramshackle dive he'd passed on the edge of town and they walked off together, his arm around her waist. She shook him off and stepped a little further out of reach. She might feel bad for him, but she wasn't a complete fool. Frankly, he looked like crap. It was plain to see he'd been on the road a long time and was definitely worse for wear. Marie had a feeling he'd only gotten that little cup of soup because it was all could pay for. She knew the signs well. He'd savored each spoonful and lingered over it a longer time than Stu's crappy soup deserved. John had also pocketed the little packet of crackers, although he didn't know she'd seen him. Marie remembered doing the same things when she'd run away from home. This way she could let him have a little more to eat, help out someone who'd once been a good friend, and still leave him his pride.

She'd hear him out, but then it was time for her to take off. She'd saved a little money… very little, but it would be enough to get her to the next town. Maybe she'd find one that was a little bigger so she could work at a grocery store or something. Her mind planning things out, she wasn't paying much attention, operating on auto-pilot. When they arrived, she pulled her room key out and unlocked the door for them. Her face scrunched up, wrinkling her nose and making her look adorably disgusted. "Ew! I smell like grease. I've got some stuff on the dresser over there. The drinks are warm, but it's the best I can do. There are maybe three channels on the TV, but feel free. I'll be out soon."

"You're too trusting," he decided. "Especially without your mutation to protect you any more… I could do anything and you'd be at my mercy."

Her lips twisted in a wry grimace. "Logan and the Danger Room taught me a lot. I don't have to have killer skin to take care of myself, John. I've been on my own for a long time. Besides, we both know you aren't interested in me like that or something probably would have happened a long time ago." She clicked the door shut and he heard the lock slide into place. As she'd gathered the clothing while she talked he'd seen that she didn't have much in the drawers. Looking around the room and taking in the packs of Ramen noodles, the no-name sodas, and the fistfuls of mints that she'd brought home from work John decided she wasn't much better off than he was.

She only thought things were bad. When she heard what he had to say, he could only hope she would hold it together. He'd never been great with weeping females. He waited for her, toying with the ball of fire hovering over his hand while his mind sorted through everything. His memories of their days before he'd left to join with Magneto mingled with his confrontation with Bobby outside the clinic. The second he'd seen the other boy, he'd known who he was looking for and it filled him with a fury unlike any other. John couldn't help thinking at that time that if she'd been with him, if he'd been her boyfriend she wouldn't have felt the need to correct something that wasn't wrong to start with. He would have helped her grow stronger where Bobby fed her weakness.

Rogue had no idea how wrong she was about him. How badly he'd wanted to be the one she sat with, the one to hold her hand, the one to risk her kisses. Bobby, the arrogant, cocky golden child had so much more to offer. Or so John had reasoned at first. He had a family. He had a real home. He had money and stability. Bobby had everything John was missing and so John had not even tried to keep him from having the girl, too.

She didn't take as long as he figured she would. Hair still wet and straggling down her back in dripping curls, she emerged with her innocent-looking face free of make-up wearing low-slung jeans and a green camisole-thing, at least that's what he thought it was called. Her bare toes peeked at him from the unraveled edge of denim and he thought she looked like a kid… or she would if she didn't have such a gorgeous figure. He shook his head and yanked his thoughts back to the important stuff.

Popping a mint into her mouth, she sat down on the bed across the room from where he sat in the hard chair near the window. Crossing her legs, she let the towel drop to the mattress and braced herself before asking, "So, what was so private and important?"

John leaned forward with his elbows propped on his knees and his hands loosely clasped together. "It's about the cure."

"John," she warned, "if you're here to slam me about taking the cure then you can just get out. I made my choice." He'd gotten her mad again, but a part of him thought that might be good. She might take the news better this way. He'd rather see her ready to fight for what she wanted than the tears she'd been shedding earlier.

Deciding there was no great way to say this, he just went with the blunt approach. "It doesn't work. It's not permanent. If you haven't already, you'll start getting twinges of your mutation back real soon. Rogue… it's going to come back." It took all his will-power to keep his hands from reaching out for her. John may not have agreed with her choice, but knew how much it had meant to her.

Her already pale face was now ashen. Her eyes glazed over as she stared without seeing. Then she turned down to stare at her quaking hands. "But… but Ah got tha shot. Ah'm not different now." She looked at him with watery eyes and began to plead almost, "Et's supposed to be ovah… Ah was supposed ta be alraght now!" Her chin was quivering and John cursed.

So much for being objective, for sticking to his cold, hard image. He couldn't take another second of seeing her like this. Pride be damned, he strode across the room and sat behind her, wrapping his arms around the shocked shell that was the woman he'd come here looking for. His lips against her hair, he whispered to her, "Shhh; it's going to be okay, Rogue. You'll be all right. With or without your mutation you were always something special. Shh," he soothed. They rocked back and forth for almost ten full minutes before he thought it was okay to try explaining to her.

"How? How do you know?"

"About a week ago I was approached by a woman… it was Mystique. I don't know if you know what Magneto did to her, but it was actually the beginning of the end as far as I was concerned." He recounted what had happened in the truck that day and the heartless way Eric had abandoned the terrified woman without a backward glance.

"I couldn't walk away. I was in too deep by that time, but it opened my eyes to just how cold and selfish he really is." John's hands had glided down her arms and now she twined their fingers together unconsciously offering comfort for the disillusioned young man she'd always liked. "Anyway, I've been kind of wandering since Alcatraz."

At her raised brow he rolled his eyes, "Fine… avoiding the police. The point is, I haven't stayed put anywhere for long, but Myst tracked me down somehow and showed me that her mutation was slowly coming back."

"Why did she come find you?"

"Good question. That's what I wanted to know." He gave her a direct look as he replied, "She wanted information on the Institute."

Her eyes shot wide and she gasped, "John, you didn't. Tell me you didn't give her intel on Xavier's!"

His hands tightened around hers. "Rogue, listen to me. Not like that. She wants to go there. She wants to work with them, to share what she knows and even to teach."

"Yeah, right!"

"It's true. You didn't see how crushed she was by his rejection. She became bitter and vengeful, but now she's past that. We all know that without some protection, without help… none of us will make it very far on our own. The Institute is the best option right now. I may not agree with everything the professor believes, but I do respect him."

"What are you talking about? You respect him! Now that he's dead you finally respect him, huh?"

John shook his head. "You don't talk to any of them, do you?" Her stony stare was answer enough. "Rogue, he's not dead."

"What are you saying?" Rogue was totally confused now.

"Look, do you have any way to get in touch with someone back there?" At her mute nod, he handed her a cell phone and urged her, "Call."

Pulling a tattered slip of paper from her duffel, she took the phone and began pushing numbers. Hesitantly she lifted the phone to her ear. After a few moments she said softly, "Hey, it's me."

She nodded a lot and uttered random, vague agreements for several minutes. Her hands shook more and more and a few tears trickled down her cheeks, but she was basically holding it together. "Ah, Ah'm not alone."

John wished he could hear what was being said. She was back to nodding again. Did she realize that whoever she'd called couldn't see her? "Okay." Soon she disconnected the call. "Ah can't believe this…"

"No." She refused to accept the return of her mutation. No way. This was too much. She'd been tough when she left home. She'd stayed tough when arriving at the institute and finding herself it a totally unfamiliar world. When kidnapped by Magneto, she'd acted as tough as she could while rendered completely powerless, having no control over her own body. But this was more than she could take. Rogue stormed around the room, hands waving wildly, muttering the single syllable over and over with increasing volume.

Finally she exploded with all the pent up frustration, rage, and brokenness that had built up in her over the years since she'd manifested. "**NO**!!" Her arms swept everything from the top of the dresser, she wrenched open the drawers and hurled the contents around the room yelling over and over.

"Rogue! Marie, stop it!" John decided she'd vented enough and tried to get her to settle down. That proved to be a bad move. She turned on him, snarling and shouting at him while pummeling his chest with her fists. He kept holding her close and taking the beating she dished out. It was the first completely honest reaction he'd ever seen from the woman and he figured if anyone needed some release it was Rogue. Ow! She could really hit, though! Time to break this little party of hers up.

He clutched her to his chest tightly enough to trap her arms firmly between them. "Marie, stop," he grunted as she struggled against his hold. He wasn't about to loosen his grasp, though. She simply had to calm down. "It'll be okay," he tried to reassure her.

"No it won't!" Suddenly she hung limp in his arms, sobbing. He sat in the chair and pulled her onto his lap shushing her and stroking her hair and back slowly. It seemed to help, thank goodness. He didn't know what else to do so if that had failed, he would have been up the creek.

"So they told you about the cure?" She sniffled and nodded against his chest. "And they told you about Xavier?" Again she nodded. This wasn't getting them very far. "Who did you talk to?"

"Logan," she mumbled. He should have figured that was who would be smart enough to leave the lines of communication open without pressuring her. They'd always been close. In fact, he'd never really gotten what the deal was with them, but there was no denying that they shared something special so everyone just had to deal with it. Wolverine saw no need to explain himself and didn't care what anyone thought anyway.

She straightened and drew slightly away from him, noting how prominent his bones were in his current undernourished state. Marie stood and went back to her original seat across the room, a little embarrassed over finding herself cozily curled up on his lap like a cat. "Logan told me everything. Mystique is on her way there. She's already talked to them." She looked directly into his eyes. "She also told them you were looking for me. How'd you find me, John?"

Now he was the one to avoid eye contact. Somehow having her know he'd found her intentionally, knowing the others all knew it too, made him feel… exposed, vulnerable. "I don't even know, really. I just did it. I knew you probably didn't know what was happening to those who took the cure and that you'd freak out if you found out by absorbing someone by accident." He shrugged to minimize the import of his own words. "You were going to need someone and you are out here alone and too stubborn to keep in touch with the mansion," his sure tones aggravated her.

"What makes you think you know me so well, _Pyro_?"

His brows hiked towards his hairline. Spreading his hands wide he talked to her like she was an imbecile. "Uh… hello? I was right."

"Shut up, you arrogant, traitorous, abandoning jerk!"

"Now wait just a damned minute! I'll give you arrogant and I can even see you viewing me as a traitor, but what is this abandonment crap? I left the Institute, but I didn't 'abandon' them. I bet the prof. even saw it coming. They just didn't care enough to stop me at the time."

She somehow managed to race across the space between them and still keep a totally calm expression. She slapped his face with a loud crack and a force behind the blow that snapped his head sideways. "You know nothin'." Composure still marked everything but her eyes, which were blazing hotly. "What about me? You know I cared about you." Her voice dropped in pitch as she sat down right there in the floor. Her words sounding almost like a child's, she whispered, "You abandoned meh, John. Ya' just walked out an' nevah looked back. Lahke I was nothin'." She slammed a fist on his nearest thigh. "How could ya' do that?" she demanded.

Unable to hold back any more, he jerked her up by her shoulders and began kissing her with a passion completely unknown to her until that moment. Caught up in the unexpected moment, she gave herself over to it and reveled in the rush of sensation that washed over her entire body spreading from the center of her person outwards until her very fingers tingled with feeling. She pressed herself tightly to his increasingly warm body, his heat making her want to nestle against him and never leave behind this comforting refuge.

Their hands were running over each other's bodies, threading through one another's hair. John couldn't believe he was finally holding her like this, feeling her plump lips against his mouth, her soft, sweet tongue writhing around his tentatively but with sincere ardor. He'd wished for this so many times, dreamed about it even after leaving Xavier's and everything else about it behind. She was the one thing from his old life he'd never been able to completely sacrifice. And now she was on his lap, touching him and letting him touch her, and seared even more fully in his heart than before.

Her camisole had shifted around and his hand glided over her smooth back and the silky indent of her small waist. She jerked back in surprise but the glassy eyes that met his were anything but reluctant. Her look was almost as fervent and hot-blooded as he knew his own must be. "Cared?" he murmured, his forehead pressed against hers.

"John…" her whispered voice urged.

"Rogue, Marie," he breathed, "You were everything… the only thing that kept me there that long. It was always you. I never wanted anything the way I wanted you. Leaving you behind knowing what it meant, knowing you'd never forgive me, was the hardest thing I've ever done."

"I nevah stopped caring, sugah. It hurt lahke hell watchin' ya' walk away."

"I'll never do it again, Marie. I'll never willingly walk away a second time." As their lips crashed together once more and they got lost in one another, she heard a strange sound filtering through the haze of her emotions but paid it no attention. When Logan came through the door and saw them his claws shot out instinctively. This still had no impact on the pair twined around each other. Not until she felt an all-too familiar tingle start and the trickle of memories and feelings did anything manage to break the spell holding them in its thrall.

The weak draw of her absorption wasn't enough to truly harm him yet and they only shared a secretive smile. "Why dontcha lovebirds give it a rest and get on the jet so's we can head back. I don't like leavin' Mysti unsupervised for long." As Rogue shoved her few belongings in her duffel before walking through the door, John and Logan simply sized one another up. John took it from her and waved her ahead of him. Logan stepped aside only to block the exit before John could follow on her heels.

"Don't screw around with the kid, Flamethrower. I meant it when I said I'd take care of her and I don't figure on stopping any time soon."

"Who says I'm just screwing around, Badger. I made her a promise myself and no one, including you, is going to make me break it. She might be your kid, Logan, but she's my woman."

Rogue's head popped around the doorframe. With a smile she wanted to know, "Are you two about done playin' tough guy yet? I think I'm about ready to go home and we've all seen how I do flying the Blackbird." Both men chuckled at her sass and she tucked a hand under the arm of each as they crossed to a nearby field. "Y'all know I love both you softies, right?"

"Yeah. We love you, too," John brusquely replied.

"But don't talk about it in front of anyone else. We've got reputations to maintain, you know."

"Yeah, I know," she answered her long-time protector.


End file.
